The Sea Girl
by DBZer16
Summary: "He found me..." When Bulma washes up on a mysterious island, the sea isn't the only thing that calls her. Guilt ridden because of an accident, she may find she has a few things in common with this flame-haired man that picks her off the beach.
1. Rescue

_Disclaimer: Ha!_

Everything was fine. No, it was glorious. I was with my parents. We were returning home from an overseas trip to the tropics. I wore my favorite sunglasses. My white shirt was long enough to cover most of my denim shorts. My blue hair was pulled back in a ponytail. A relaxed style that suited me well.

I remember that I had been going to the deck after lunch to lay down by the pool and read. How trivial that would seem later.

There was the sound of guns being clicked, swords being drawn. Everyone was confused. The crew members started moving about, very calmly. They wore vicious smiles.

The captain made an appearance after everyone was gathered on the deck. He was not the same man that had welcomed us aboard at the shore of West Country. No, this was a very different man. He introduced himself as Bojack, and panic instantaneously set in. We were trapped with modern day's most vicious pirate. Any day's, actually. Everyone knew the stories. He killed without mercy – even glee. He took what he wanted, from riches to women to children. He took it all.

He staged the entire thing. No wonder this was so expensive. He'd purposely lured the wealthiest in the world, and as the future president of Capsule Corp., I more than qualified. We would be held for ransom. We would be tortured. We would be raped. We would be killed.

My breathing got heavier. My pulse raced. For the first time in my entire life of twenty years, I experienced fear. Quickly though, I gathered my wits. Now was not the time for despair. I was behind everything. If I was quiet, I could get below deck to the boiler room. I could detonate an explosion, sink the ship. The passengers would over power the pirates and make it to the lifeboats. They would die. Everyone else would live. I'd save everybody.

It played out so well in my head.

I was a fool.

I set fire to the engine and boiler, dashing back up the steps before I was caught in the explosion. I had heard gunshots while I was down there, but refused to let them deter me. When I got back up though, I realized who had been hit by those bullets. They weren't some random people I didn't know.

A bloody mess of my parents lay unmoving on the deck. I felt numb.

Another explosion rocked the vessel, throwing me hard against the railing. There was a fuzzy stinging sensation in my abdomen. I felt it, and when my hand came back up, it was wet with red. With my blood. A piece of shrapnel had imbedded itself in my skin.

There was shouting, cursing, screaming, crying. I looked up in a daze. People kept falling dead. People kept jumping over the side. Children were cut down for others to make it to lifeboats. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This wasn't what I had envisioned at all.

This was hell. And I was responsible.

Survival instincts kicked in, I guess. I was crawling, practically dragging myself along the smooth wood. Occasionally, my hand would slip, and I would crash into someone's blood. There were more explosions. The ship was turning onto one side. I was absolutely terrified.

Somehow, I managed to climb into a lifeboat and deploy it. The ship was halfway submerged. There was a screaming to my left. There was a little girl, flailing in the water. I called out to her, and tried to paddle the boat to her, but it would not move over the force of the currents. Another detonation and heavy debris went flying. Part of one of the smoke stacks hit the girl straight in the head, snapping her neck to the side.

She was dead.

I knew I was crying by then. There was nothing but chaos around me. It would have been better to just let Bojack have his way. Maybe then a few of us could have lived. It's what I got for trying to play hero.

As I looked around, I saw only one other bright yellow emergency raft, and it was fast sinking. It struck me then. I would be the only survivor. I would live on as a killer despite my intentions.

I could only laugh. Laugh I did as my cheeks were stained with salty water not of the sea.

I stopped when agony tore through my head and torso. I felt my temple, and sure enough, there was blood running freely. I hit the railing harder than I thought. The shrapnel was still in my gut. I went to pull it out, but the second my fingers brushed it, a terrible throbbing wracked me.

I simply lay back, carried who knows where by the ocean. There were no clouds. Nothing to distract me from my misery. I thought of nothing. I just stared out, barely noticing when the sky darkened. I was numb, and I was certain I would waste away.

He found me.

My skin was slightly burnt from the sun's rays, and my stomach clenched painfully with hunger, yet the thought of eating made me sick. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth, dry. I lay still in the lifeboat that rested on the sand.

He was the first thing I saw when I seemed to awaken from my trance. I was unaware I had actually passed out. He peered down at me with curiosity and slight concern. My Kami he was beautiful. His flame of jet black hair looked soft as silk. His perfect bronzed skin was layered with muscle the gods would envy. But his eyes…His deep obsidian eyes were addicting to gaze at.

He reached down for me, his calloused hands lifting me from my small vessel and cradling my limp body. The sun was just beginning to set. He carried me across the beach towards the thicket of jungle, stopping to grab his spear from behind a tree. I didn't know where he was taking me. I didn't know if he wasn't some kind of cannibal, but I was unafraid. Anything was better than drifting at sea.

It was still in my stomach, though this did not go unnoticed by him.

_"Uket nowasted bolu yani?"_ He asked. I couldn't understand a word he said. He must have figured so from my puzzled expression. My father said he always knew when I was going to ask something because my blue eyes begged the question before my voice did.

He seemed mildly frustrated as he walked, trying to communicate. Birds of exotic colors chatted away and insects I'd never seen chirped their mating calls.

He opened his mouth to speak then closed it again, struggling with what to say. I would help him, but I was honestly too exhausted, and I don't think my heavy tongue would have cooperated with me.

_"Shet niku Vegeta Ouji,"_ he said firmly, pointing to himself. It was a wonderful name I decided. It screamed majestic power and potential, just like him. I must have been really out of it, having gone without water for at least two days in the sweltering heat the sun directed at the ocean, for I never thought of anyone I first met like that. I never saw what I thought they were like until I actually got to know them, and there I was, mentally yammering on about power and majestic stuff.

I nodded to show I understood. Somehow, I managed to croak my own name out, hardly a whisper. It was so soft I wasn't sure that he heard. "Bulma."

But he did. He nodded. As time droned on, and the sky fell to black, a feeling of total peace washed over me as I clung to this handsome stranger's back. The nocturnal creatures awoke, the moon hung high and bright over the island, illuminating everything perfectly, and fire flies began to dance.

I didn't think this man would eat me.

He stopped by a small stream and pulled a flask from his belt after setting me on a smooth rock. He knelt and filled it with the crystalline water and handed it to me. I wanted to gulp greedily, but restrained myself to long sips. My throat felt better. I ended up downing three flasks full of the pure liquid.

I panicked slightly when he stood and wandered off into the jungle again, but my nerves calmed when he returned with several leaves and flowers. He dipped each in the fresh water before laying them on a boulder. He took a rock roughly the size of his strong hand and began grinding them together until they were a balm like substance. He motioned for me to lie down. Dizzy, I complied.

I blushed when he peeled my shirt off, but he proved a gentleman when he focused only on my wound. There were also several bruises. He frowned. I decided that I didn't like it when he frowned.

Vegeta tore my once white top gone blood red into long strips. He balled one up and mimicked biting onto it, then held it out for me to take. I did as he said and bit down on it. It would take all of ten seconds for me to figure out why.

He splayed his rough fingers over my stomach, the sensation soothing. He dipped a strip of my shirt in the stream…

And suddenly ripped the metal from my skin.

I bit down on the cloth as hard as I could and screamed with pain. He frowned again when I did so and quickly began administering the balm, smearing his hand with my blood and wrapping the damp make-shift bandage around me. He tied some dry ones too, just to keep me comfortable.

Tears pricked at my eyes but I refused to let them fall. I had no right to cry after what happened. He pulled the rag from my mouth and I released a shaky breath. He leaned over me, brushing my hair from my face to inspect the wound to my temple. Hr pressed another damp cloth to it, and wiped the dried blood clean exposing a nasty gash. He rubbed some of the balm over it and wrapped the bandage around my forehead.

He picked me up again, piggy-back style this time, and jumped effortlessly over the at least three yard wide stream. I was too tired to really ponder the phenomenon.

At some point, I must have fallen prey to sleep, for Vegeta jostled me awake. We were in front of large wooden gates, open to let us in. When we entered, I gasped. There was a huge bon fire, surrounded by rough looking people. All of them, like Vegeta wore animal skins of some kind. They all looked and saw me, murmuring with slight apprehension. One man stood up and stretched lazily before approaching.

His hair was like a bird's nest, with spikes pointing every which way. He had kind eyes, and a friendly smile. _"Dotshi, Vegeta Ouji,"_ he said excitedly. As if they were long-time friends. He glanced at me. _"Kajen tut egeto hungwe?"_

_"Kakarot,"_ Vegeta greeted. _"Elly timo "Bulma" shret naji. Yon comet grelin freya lin vensopila."_ The other man nodded. _"Justuno deke,"_ he concluded.

Kakarot, as I figured his name was, waved a woman with dark hair over. Her skin was paler than the rest of the people there. She came up to him then looked to Vegeta. She placed a hand over her heart and nodded slightly. _"Dotshi, Vegeta Ouji."_ I deduced that he must be important for her to treat him with such respect.

My rescuer gestured towards me, setting me on the ground, but still supporting most of my weight as my feet gingerly touched the cool grass. My legs were shaky, but I stood with his help. _"Elly kan te Bulma. Justuno deke."_

The woman's mouth formed a delicate 'O' of comprehension. She addressed me. "Hello, my name's Chichi. You are Bulma, right?" She tested, as though unsure I would understand.

I nodded vigorously; glad that there was someone I could talk to. "Yes." My voice was hoarse.

"Where are you from?"

"The West Country."

"Okay, do you know how you got here?" I bit my lip and suddenly found my toes very fascinating. Chichi seemed to get the hint and saved that conversation for later. She turned to the men and relayed my origins in their language, and I swear I heard her say 'English' but I couldn't be sure with the speed that she talked. Vegeta grunted.

"So that was the language," he said, as if it should have been obvious to him. I was stunned. He did know English. I had forgotten all about the others of what I assumed was their tribe gathered by the fire. He gently took my arm by the crook of my elbow. "Come with me."

As he dragged me off, Chichi smiled apologetically and waved. She tugged Kakarot and he followed her back to the fire where a little boy jumped up and ran to them.

He led me to a hut – larger than the rest in the village. Inside, it was lit with candles and there was a boy, maybe three years my junior, who leapt to his feet the second Vegeta walked in.

"Vegeta!" The boy said with excitement.

Vegeta smirked (a devilishly handsome expression on him by the way) and ruffled his hair. "Tarble." He spoke some words in their language. I was clueless. After about two minutes, Tarble made the same salute that Chichi had at me, and extended his hand. "I am Tarble, Second Son."

I took his hand. "Bulma Briefs." I was ashamed my voice was still nearly silent. My head was pounding and throbbing. Vegeta laid me on a cot while Tarble looked me over. He ran to grab some jars and real bandages, talking swiftly to Vegeta as he worked on me. He rubbed some sweet smelling slave on my chest (not cleavage) and my vision went blurry.

…

I had been hunting when I saw it, a yellow boat. I was puzzled for I saw no one in it. I left my spear and dragged it ashore to investigate. There was a woman inside. Her clothes and skin were caked with blood. Her hair, same color as the sea, was sprawled under her head. Her eyes opened and I was momentarily struck dumb. It seemed impossible that anyone's irises should be such a vibrant shade of blue. She seemed hazy, like everything was moving in slow motion for her. She went through some ordeal, I could guess that much.

There was something jutting from under her shirt and I theorized it to be the source of her blood loss. I'd seen much blood in my life, but never before had I felt so uncomfortable staring at the substance. It didn't belong on her like that. She looked too pure.

She looked haunted.

With much care, I lifted her, my arms supporting her neck and knees. I knew a small creek none too far from the beach. Normally, it would have taken me a matter of maybe ten minutes to reach, but I held a fragile creature.

It took much longer. Almost an hour.

I asked where she came from and who she was, doubting she would respond. More than anything, she seemed confused. Then I remembered that the tongue of which my people spoke was known only to us. Trying to make things simpler, I made it clear that my name was Vegeta. She seemed to comprehend, though only half-awake.

"Bulma," she murmured. I liked her name.

When we reached the stream I tended to her wounds and thirst. My eyes never strayed from her injuries, though I was sorely tempted to do otherwise after removing her shirt (I did not wear one myself, to make bandages, and I needed to inspect it). I admit to being slightly impressed that she shed no tears, though her pained scream brought a tightening to my chest. The metal was long and jagged, almost impaling her. She was soft and delicate, no doubt unused to wounds.

She fell asleep on the way to the village. Such a weak creature. My people wound have brushed such a superficial injury off like nothing. But she was not of my people. I shook her awake and that fool Kakarot came trotting over to see what the excitement was about.

He greeted me informally – something I didn't completely mind. Formalities just seem so sickening sometimes. So I explained, knowing he would only pester me further if I left him in the dark about the issue. I told him that she "does not speak."

The moron waved his screeching harpy of a mate over and soon she had the woman talking, though in soft whispers. Her voice was like flowing silk.

Chichi was the only outsider that ever lived with us. Adopted our ways. She spoke the language of those off our island where they made common use of loud machines and such annoyances. She'd apparently been testing for her 'pilot's license' when the engine of her aircraft blew out and she crashed here. Kakarot had taken an immediate liking to her and vice versa. She taught us the language, English, of the Away People.

We call them such because they are disconnected with everything – including themselves. For one to know the emotions of another, verbal communication is required. They delude themselves with false attributes they would find admirable. They kill one another for something worthless such as wealth. They put their big companies on pedestals and grind the poor into the mud. They betray their mates and packs. I hate them.

So why did I save this Away woman? I could say that I believe in the individual, but that would be a lie. I didn't know why I helped her. She was alluring I suppose.

When I realized what she spoke I was able to communicate. I took her to the healing lodge where my brother was.

Tarble may be the closest thing I will ever find to a kindred spirit in this world. Of course he's not perfect. Immature, naïve, clingy and demanding on occasion… But he is observant. He knows and sees things most would overlook. He treats people as they need to be treated – not how they want to. He listens. He reminds me very much of my mother. Wise. Compassionate. Gentle. But firm in beliefs and opinions.

I'm not sure I'll ever come to accept her death.

Father will be displeased with me when I see him. Not only had I run off earlier without telling him or anyone else, I'd been gone for hours, and from what he knew, alone. That's a dangerous thing…with the chances of remaining Ice Folk and all. I'd also brought one of the Away People to our village. The harpy was lucky he hadn't thrown her to the ocean when she arrived.

I introduce Bulma to my sibling and explain that she does not know our tongue. Tarble had been eager to learn English, but my father was a stubborn and close-minded man. He spat on change. He was one of the few of our tribe left that had not learned.

I guided the woman to one of the cots and let my brother go to work. He rubbed the sleeping salve on her and she drifted off. I decided that I would take responsibility for her – no matter what my father protested.

Something told me she loved to learn. And teach her I would.

_A/N:_ _So, for those reading Rise and Fall, um, yeah. Somehow, I convinced myself that I already put the last chapter up, but when I checked, I hadn't…so, I'm looking for it in my billions of files and will put it up the second it is located. Sorry for the wait.  
_

_This one came to me last night at like, 2 A.M. I've just been getting too many ideas. Well, If I start them all at once, I should have a pretty decent flow of updates since I won't be stuck on one thing.  
_


	2. Professor Vegeta

It should go to say that Father was more than displeased with me. He was yelling at me for a solid twenty minutes about how irresponsible I was for hunting alone and staying out past dark. He was positively infuriated. I thought his head was going to explode; his face was so red. If I hadn't been on the receiving end of a borderline abusive verbal lashing, I would have found it rather entertaining. I was tempted to provoke him further.

Then I brought up the woman.

All hell broke loose.

My head ached when he finally had to stop to breathe. Before he could resume, I cut in. "I will take full responsibility for her, Father. She will become an asset of some sort."

"No! I will not hear of it! We are not simply taking in strays, Vegeta! She will leave the second she recovers."

"How? She has no way to get back to wherever she came from." I was taking great pains to be calm. Yelling would take me nowhere.

"Then kill her!"

Something in me snapped when he said that. The thought of such a thing made me furious. I had saved her, and he wanted me to do that? It was unthinkable in my mind. "No!" Screw being calm.

He took a threatening step towards me. "Our people do not need another mouth to feed."

"We have children every year, and the elderly pass away," I pointed out. "She will earn her keep."

"I don't care! She is a poison to our way of life!"

"How do you know? She hasn't tried to amend anything! And even if she was, how do you know it would be so horrible? Why are you so against change?"

"We do not need such a thing! I don't care how you do it, but you will get rid of her by the end of the week."

I knew I had to remain firm or else. I only had one final argument to make. "Mother would never do that." He fell silent. I knew I had beaten him.

I was named for my sire, and he was a complicated man. Ever since my mother was killed, he'd never been the same. He refused to move forward with anything, living in the past. He clung to tradition like a security blanket, and was as stiff as a board. I knew he was worried about Tarble and me, cared about us in his own nagging way, but I still resented him for his foolishness. When I claimed power from him, things would become different. I don't care what he thinks.

I had won, but it seemed a hollow victory. Knowing him, we would hardly speak for a few days or so, as that was the usual occurrence whenever _she_ was brought up. "If she endangers anyone or becomes a liability, it will be her head."

I nodded. Saluting him, I left, knowing he would fume for the next hour or so. Besides, I wanted to see how the blue-haired girl was faring.

When I arrived at the medical lodge, I found that she was not in the company of just my brother. Kakarot, his banshee of a mate, and brat were there as well. They didn't seem to notice as I strode in. The girl was ruffling Gohan's hair with affection. He probably did something she thought was 'cute.' I don't understand females.

She finally looked up and saw me. "Oh! Hey." The others turned as well, Kakarot waving like the fool he is. Tarble just offered an understanding smile. He knew things with our father had not gone over well. The whole village probably heard him screaming. I looked at him pointedly and he came up with an excuse to usher everyone from the room. Something about finding another herb.

I crossed my arms and sat by her bedside. She blushed, though I had no idea why. She twisted the cotton blanket in her hands and struggled with something. I watched, oddly patient and curious, the former not normally an attribute of mine. "I…Thanks. For saving me, I mean."

That made me uncomfortable. I never liked to be called on it when I did something "_nice_." So I waved her off.

She became indignant at that. Her cheeks flushed even more with embarrassment that I had no hope of comprehending. "I'm serious! I would have died if you hadn't found me…Though, that may have been for the best," she added, her voice barely a whisper.

"Tell me how you came to be here," I demanded, deciding to bypass that depressing statement that was obviously not intended for me to hear. I'd always been rather blunt.

She sighed. Her shoulders slumped in surrender, and she told me of the ship, pirate, her parents, what she'd done, the little girl that had cried for help… "The next thing I know, you're there." I could tell she was trying hard not to cry. Through it all I remained silent.

Her experience reminded me of…

No. I shook my head as if to rid myself of such thoughts.

I gave her a minute to recover before breaking the silence. "You won't be able to get back," I stated. I would not sugarcoat the truth. She seemed surprised at first, but not bothered for the most part. She baffled me. Almost hesitantly, I moved on. "I spoke with my father. You are my responsibility from now on."

She straightened her posture. "You don't have to –"

I silenced her with a half-hearted glare. "Yes, I do. If you become a weakness to our tribe, my father will kill you. I am to make sure that does not happen."

"Oh."

"Rest, Girl. The sooner you recover the sooner I may begin training you in the ways of the saiyan." I stood and left after smirking mischievously. I needed a good spar.

…

I can tell my brother likes her. I'm glad for that. Sure, he knows everyone of our tribe, but only a hand full deeply. We were both incredibly close to our mother, and neither of us have yet to fully recover from our grief, though I like to think I'm doing better than Vegeta.

Bulma is fragile, not very strong, and has obviously never done physical labor before, but I like her too. She's smart – that much I know from when she started asking me about the composition of the medicines I gave her when she woke up. From the way she treated Kakarot's first pack, I can tell she is very kind and generous.

I also suspect she's a spitfire, but I've yet to see her in action. Though, if she hangs around my brother that will definitely come to surface.

Chichi seemed to bring great relief to Bulma as soon as she explained how she came to be with us. I suppose it was having someone that could relate to the changes. She adored young Gohan, playing along with surprise when he proudly announced his age of two. Kakarot laughed and smiled throughout the conversation, not contributing much aside from his presence. I could tell he was pulling up information about her, trying to get a feel for what she was like without prodding.

We would learn more about this newcomer with time. I could tell she was struggling with something – and it was something she would have to solve on her own.

I just hoped our relatively quiet tribe could handle whatever came next.

…

There is no possible way I can express how glad I was to know Chichi could help guide me through things. Sure, she seemed a tad high-strung, but she was nice and she was welcoming. Her son was possibly one of the most adorable toddlers I'd seen in my life. His eyes lit with happiness whenever I showed interest in his age or likings. He was such a little gentleman. I wasn't sure about Kakarot (or Goku, as his name translates) yet, but he had a kind and good nature about him that made me feel relaxed despite circumstance. Tarble was very sweet and understanding. He tended to my injuries and answered all of my questions about the medicinal products he was using. Underneath his 'go with the flow' personality, I thought he was protective.

I was ruffling Gohan's black hair when I saw him again. I was even less certain about Vegeta than Kakarot. He seemed so aloof and gelid, but he saved me, a total stranger. He couldn't be bad.

I'd decided all of that before he took three steps into the room. Tarble removed everyone from the lodge and I found myself alone with my strange rescuer and his flame of black hair. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. I didn't know how to act around him. He'd offered much to me and there was nothing I could do to repay him.

He eventually got around to the one question I'd hoped he wouldn't ask. Though, it was more of an order than a question. "Tell me how you came to be here." I could do nothing but answer honestly. I'd been able to distract myself from my guilt and trauma with all of the excitement going on, but it was inevitable that I would have to face my actions.

I felt small and useless, but there was something distantly akin to admiration and maybe sympathy in his eyes. I was struck further by his surprises when he told me his father's commands.

I was ashamed for being such a dead weight, but he didn't seem to mind it that much. It was as though he was anticipating this training I would undermine.

Every day for the next two weeks, Chichi and Gohan would visit and she would give me lessons about the tribe and local language. Sometimes Vegeta or Tarble would join. Sometimes Kakarot. Sometimes curious villagers. I learned much. They were known as the Saiyans. They lusted for battle, but held steadfast to their honor. They ate a lot. Vegeta and Tarble were the tribe's royalty, their father the stubborn king. They'd inhabited this island for generations.

It was one lesson in particular that drew my attention.

We were taking a break, talking about idle and trivial things. I'd already told her of the incident with Bojack and the biggest mistake of my life, but she didn't hold me accountable like I did. She treated me no differently, and for that I was grateful.

Anyhow, she was running her hand through Gohan's rebellious hair since he fell asleep while we talked. She was overbearing, but a good mother and 'mate.' "I can't wait to find out what his Beckoning is. Although, I'm sure it will be academics and learning," she mused proudly.

"Beckoning? What's that?"

"Oh? I didn't tell you? It's one of the most important aspects of saiyan culture! Sort of a rite of passage type thing. I don't fully understand it myself, but the basic idea is that everyone has a Beckoning, or calling. For me, it's cooking. For Tarble, medicine. For Goku, it's the sun. Beckonings can vary from a set of skills, talents, or abilities, to actual objects and what they represent, like my Goku's. Everyone has one. For saiyans, when you discover your calling, you can begin to become an adult. That's what I like about it here. To be an adult, you have to earn it."

"Wow. Wait, what did you mean by objects?" I leaned forward as though she were telling a magnificent tale to a child, fascinated.

"That's a bit more difficult to explain. Um, I guess… Uh. Well, take Goku's, the sun, for example. It represents warmth, light, and it gives life. Those are traits found in him. He naturally wants to help everyone because that's what his calling is. Of course, there are bad callings, but those are sometimes the best because one has to find the good in them, and resist the bad."

"The bad?"

"Yeah. Um, look at Vegeta."

For some reason, I got really defensive because of that. He saved me for Kami's sake. "What's bad about Vegeta?"

She raised her hands in a gesture for peace. "Calm down, Bulma. That's not what I meant. He hasn't found his yet, but (and don't get all defensive) he can be cold. He can let his arrogance blind him. Sometimes, after you know him for a while, you have to look really hard for his good qualities. I heard rumors that the Seer said he was going to have a big struggle, and that he worries he is instable. But, he also said that if he overcomes them, he will be Legendary. However, they're just rumors, so I wouldn't put much faith in them."

I couldn't help but wonder what my calling was. And Vegeta's.

I woke up the next morning to a mouthful of dirt. Spitting and sputtering the dust and fibers from the carpet my face had oh-so-graciously plopped on, I stood to confront the jackass that dared yank me out of bed like that.

"What the fu - !" It was Vegeta.

"Get up, Girl," he said gruffly, though I could tell he was trying hard not to laugh at my predicament. "Tarble has informed me that you are more than ready to go. About damned time too. I was beginning to think you would never recover."

"Hey! I can't just heal as fast as I want! And you didn't have to literally drag me out of bed, you big brute!" He just shrugged, amusement dancing in his coal black eyes.

"Quit whining. It's time to start you're training." When I followed him outside, I became even angrier.

"What the hell, Vegeta! It's still dark out! Do you have any idea what time it is?" I couldn't believe him! Waking me up in the rudest way possible and starting my 'saiyan lesson' before the sun was up? Was he absolutely insane?

He sighed. "What did I just say? Since you're a beginner, we're starting at the basics. I have to cram an entire culture into that thick head of yours so you could just say we're getting a head start. Now I'm only going to say this one more time: Stop bitching."

He led me through a worn path in the woods to a large clearing near a small irrigation ditch. I guessed that it was a field. I wondered what we were going to do. He went to a small lean-to and pulled a long stick out. I couldn't quite see what it was in the dark. He handed it to me. "I want half of this plowed by sunrise."

What. The. Hell.

"Are you kidding me! This is huge! There's no way I'm going to get half of it done by dawn!"

He smirked and it irritated me. "Your problem. Not mine."

He glared at me knowingly. Then I remembered. He wasn't trying to work me over, well he was, and he was enjoying it, but his main reason was his father's threat. This was for my benefit. The more I proved myself, the less he would hate me. I didn't say anything else, and started working. I knew I would have serious blisters within an hour.

And I did.

I just barely met his expectation, but he never said I could stop, and I never asked. I kept going until other saiyans came to work on the field, eyeing me with curiosity. My lips were becoming dry and my hands were bleeding, though I hardly noticed.

At some point, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up to find Vegeta. He told me to follow him, and after Tarble bandaged my hands, we ate breakfast by the big fire. I use the word breakfast loosely. It was more like a feast for an army. Of course, while my hunger was more than satiated, I had the, um, _pleasure _of meeting King Vegeta.

The two were carbon copies, save for the beard that sported the king's chin. I swear the man stared at me the entire meal like he was waiting for me to stand up on my hands and try to beat everyone to death with my spoon.

After about twenty minutes, he decided to honor me with acknowledgement. _"Kelt nauhli tened guft diko nitsha." _He never bothered looking up from his food. I turned to Vegeta for translation.

"He says, "So you're the Away girl my son dragged off the beach.""

"Away girl?"

"We call those that don't come from here the Away People."

"Oh."

"_Jut skeht oju tran."_

"What did he say that time?"

"That you're not very impressive."

I'm not impressive? Me? I am the flipping genius that helped my father develop the single greatest invention of all time before I hit double digits! I had more patents in my hand than there were trees on the island! I was beautiful and smart, two things that are rarely found in one entity. And I'm not very impressive? Who the hell did this guy think he was?

Oh, I was going to earn this old fart's respect if it killed me.

Which, when given thought, may have been literal.

…

This girl is going to be nothing but trouble. What a skinny, frail, and hopeless thing. I don't know why the boy cares at all about her. She knows nothing. She has grown with outsiders that blind themselves for comfort, so how could she?

I was not impressed by the sight of her in the least, and I told her so.

I have never seen such furious eyes. I almost wanted her to argue, just so I can see what she's really made of, and maybe have an excuse to be rid of her, but I also don't want to hear her talk.

She held her tongue.

Not that I would've understood what she was saying anyway.

I'm ashamed to say that I've grown apart from my children over the past three years or so. When my mate was killed by the Ice folk that inhabit odd parts of the island, I became very strict with them. I would not allow Vegeta to hunt at night anymore, or alone, which were the two things he preferred above all else. I scarcely let Tarble leave the village at all. I was afraid that I would lose them somehow, and I have.

And it's my fault.

But I can't just suddenly let them do as they please. I just can't.

I feel that this girl, Bulma is a threat to our way of life. It was trying to change that, which led to many deaths in the past. It's bad enough we speak English now.

I notice the bandages on her hands. No doubt my son has been working her since dawn. Maybe earlier. I will expect her to get up and work on her own at some point. Vegeta has his own chores to do, and he had most likely gotten up far earlier than her to complete them. She is a burden.

I didn't know who she was, who she thought she was, or who she hoped to become, but I could tell she had a captive audience, my eldest in the front row. Fascination can be a dangerous thing. I don't plan to let this go on, but I will not interfere. I promised Vegeta a chance to cure her of her delusions, and I am a man of my word.

Regardless, I'll give her a month, tops, before she keels over.

…

_A/N: I would like to thank all of my reviewers for your encouragement. It really motivates me to write. I would like to give special thanks Wilted Passion and maymayB for your support._

_Oh and just shameless plug, __Destiny__Lost__ by the latter and __The__Competition__ by the former, both great reads. _


	3. Adapting

I ached all over, but somehow, it was a good type of ache. I guess it was because it came from labor and hard work. I earned that pain starting at the crack of dawn every day, and I knew it would become strength later.

It amazes me how easily I came to accept the more saiyan outlook on life. Sure, I held onto some of the things I'd always believed, but a lot of what Vegeta, Chichi, and everyone else taught me made so much more sense. It kind of felt like I was being remade into something better. Something with more purpose than running a huge corporation when my dad retired.

I felt good.

There were a few things, however, that I did not adapt well to.

Like the fact that the saiyan people have no such thing as indoor plumbing.

Or electricity.

Know what that means? A city girl like me can't shower, use a toilet, wash hands in warm tap water, listen to headphones, drive, use air conditioning, etc.

As you can imagine, I felt rather ripe. The fact that I was working muscles I didn't even know existed every day wasn't helping my situation much. And so, that was what led me to jump into a freezing cold river stark naked to bathe.

It did not go too well.

I can still hear that arrogant jackass laughing in my head. Yeah, I mean the "Oh Mighty Prince Vegeta." And the sad part is that it makes me want to laugh too.

I also don't know what was going on in the rest of the world. You know the one where that mass murdering spree I decided to go on was still probably hitting the major headlines? Yeah. That one. People on all sides were probably talking about the set up, my parents' deaths, and me being a missing person and all. I wonder if they knew what happened with the boiler room.

I feel compelled to go back. I didn't exactly trust all of my board members to act responsibly with the company if myself or dad left. I'm worried about our charities and moral standards, the pay we give those on the assembly lines, and the overall threat of corruption.

Then, there was the confliction of saiyan morals over the rest of the world's. It was hard. When I started listening to them, and I looked back, everything about my previous way of life seemed corrupt somehow. The poor. The scandals. The theft. The fear.

The fear was what probably came as the biggest shock to me. I'd realized that saiyans did absolutely nothing to lock up their valuables from thieves. They weren't afraid of being killed by the wild animals, disease, each other. They weren't afraid of getting hurt. They weren't afraid of being stolen from. It was bizarre.

I'd always looked at the news to find some story about taking extra precautions for this, the murder that happened over there, the big political scandal, the raping that occurred at that place, the abused child that grew up into a serial killer, the danger all of our rights were in, the big companies taking over, the crazy activists, the threats. Always the threats.

It seemed so odd to me now. Why did we always terrify ourselves for no reason? It seemed so ridiculous.

I tried to push it to the back of my mind. It's not exactly like I could do much to help it.

And I didn't want to leave.

I came to understand what Chichi meant when she was explaining the Beckonings. About Vegeta, I mean. As I spent more time with him, I started to see that he carried his own burdens. He did seem closed off and dark. It was almost like he was this pure energy that was shrouded in a cloak of his past and the taints of reality.

Weird how I can get so poetic.

That ass knows exactly what to do to piss me the hell off.

We argue almost constantly, but it's sort of become a game of ours. We enjoy it. He's so proud and arrogant, sometimes I just want to snap his neck, but then a few minutes later I'll know I love the way we bicker.

His father still hates me. I was talking to Chichi and she said she had similar problems, especially since she introduced English. She didn't go into detail, but apparently it had gotten pretty ugly, and the only reason she was still standing was because she and Goku had fallen in love and he'd defended her. It was such a sweet story. It reminded me of my romantic fantasies as a little girl and how I wished my soul mate would come and sweep me off my feet. I laugh at it now, of course, but I was fond of those memories. They're kind of like old toys you haven't seen in a long time that you dig out of some box in the attic and play with for a few weeks before shoving them back to take out other ones.

Something like that.

I absolutely adore Tarble. That kid has to be purest thing I've ever seen. He's not pure in the same way Goku is. That guy has to be everybody's hero, and he's the nicest person I've ever met. He's friendly pure. Tarble is serene. If there was anything I could come up with to compare him to (and I know it's corny) it would be an angel. Not a guardian angel, he seems too delicate for that. There's just something quiet and wise about him that makes me just want to hug him to death. But not really. It would be a tragedy if he died in a freak hugging accident.

Besides, I've killed enough people.

Of course, I know that boy has a backbone. I've seen it firsthand when he and Vegeta were arguing one time. It had to be a saiyan trait or something.

I was feeling really nervous. Today was the day Vegeta was going to take me hunting. He gave me a bow and a quiver of arrows. He told me, "If you don't kill something edible, you don't eat." So, my dinner stakes on my performance in the jungle with nothing but the company of the almighty Prince Obnoxious himself.

I'd forgone my old clothes and now dressed like everyone else in the village. Sort of a cotton like material that sticks to your skin like spandex, but without all of the scrunching up in awkward places part. I like it. It compliments my figure well.

I waved at Chichi as she wished me luck and I began to follow the surly man. He'd gone over the basics with me yesterday, and took me out to see what certain tracks looked like. I was worried I would forget something, but everything seemed in place in my head. He didn't wear anything over his feet and carried his handmade spear. Shirtless, to my liking.

For once we were totally silent. We worked our way through the jungle, parting leaves and branches. This was the one time he would be of any kind of assistance to me, and even that meant he didn't talk to me at all. I would take what I could get though.

I find myself liking him more and more every day. He's done so much for me, and yet he manages to not make me feel awkward and indebted. He does it by being a total bastard about everything until I was to strangle him. It's almost like therapy.

Weird, I know, but true.

I don't think I would be doing so well if it weren't for him. He's kind of like my silent support. Not the loudest or most polite, but definitely the strongest.

I swallowed as if to wash down my trepidation. I was worried my hands would start shaking.

After a few hours, the sun had risen higher and the jungle was starting to heat up though it was hardly 10 AM.

My eyes roamed across my surroundings until I spotted the tracks of some boar like creature Vegeta had told me of earlier. I nearly jumped with delight, but opted instead to look at him for approval. I didn't know if he thought I could handle such a beast. I'd seen some of the men hauling a fresh kill on a spit and let me tell you, those things were huge.

He nodded.

I began to follow the smudged trail downhill towards the river bank, Vegeta having taken to the trees. I swear it's like he's part monkey sometimes with the way he swings from branches. He's a regular Tarzan.

Except way hotter in my humble opinion.

…

The woman's practically shaking in her boots. To me, it's absurd. She knows I'll protect her if she comes to any life-threatening danger. After all, why would I go through all the trouble I have if I was just going to watch some animal kill her when her arrow missed it by miles?

I would be very stupid if that were the case. But it's not, and I am one of the most intelligent people on the planet for certain.

So take that, Kakarot.

She finally noticed the boar trail I've been keeping a steady eye on for twenty minutes now. I nodded with my approval and she began following it. Eventually, we came to a small clearing where the animal was grazing. It wasn't very large but I supposed she would be glad for that. After all, she was the one that has to drag it back to the village.

Her sharp intake of breath and excitement was somewhat contagious. I found myself anticipating her first kill. I wanted to see my efforts to teach her come into fruition.

She glanced around for a decent vantage point. She crept behind a bush and pulled an arrow from her quiver. Slowly and quietly, she stood, not making a sound. I crouched in the tree above her, watching everything unfold.

Hunting is a very important part of saiyan culture. One must prove that they can provide for themselves, as well as others. My father always said to know how to rely on yourself before others, so that should they fail, you'll have something to fall back on. My mother just said to trust those closest to me.

The bow tightened as she pulled back to her cheek. She released a long breath as she let go, and let the arrow fly…

Right into the boar's neck. It made a noise of distress and jumped in sudden pain. Most prey would have scurried away, but not this one. Instead, it turned to Bulma, the source of his hurting, and charged. In a panic, she grabbed another arrow and fired it. It soared well over the thing's head and it kept running.

I wasn't really thinking then, but there was a shift of air and suddenly she was in my arms again. She took the bow and arrow again with shaky hands, and killed the beast without hesitation. It collapsed, but we hesitated in moving for it. She was trying to calm herself, and I just didn't want to put her down yet. I don't know why.

I pushed those thoughts aside and dropped down from my perch and set the insufferable woman down. I said nothing as she tentatively grabbed the corpse and slung it over her shoulders. We trekked on in silence back to the village.

I must admit, I am impressed with her. Her muscles had toned, her work ethic improved, and from what I can tell, her mind had settled somewhat from its earlier turmoil. I did not expect her to adapt and change so readily, but it seemed I had underestimated the wench.

We crossed the threshold into our territory, and soon the women were roasting her kill on a spit. She looked at me again and smiled lightly. I grunted indifferently, and left to go find Tarble.

…

"You like her, don't you?" I accused. Vegeta had just finished recounting his hunting trip with Miss Bulma and it took every ounce of willpower I had not to laugh at him. He was being rather silly after all.

"What! That bitchy woman? She's the bane of my existence, you idiot!"

Brother has never been good at expressing himself. I want to laugh not because he has these feelings, but because he doesn't know what to do with them. He'll get mad, seethe, yell, fight, but never has he really been able to open up that much. He's only ever done so to Mother and me, and she's gone now. That means I have to be there now more than ever.

Of course, no one else has really noticed. I'm just observant that way. But I can see it. The way they banter, blush, storm off, and start it all over again. She likes him, and he likes her. Neither of them seem to know it yet though.

"Oh, forget it, 'Geta."

"Don't call me that," he growled, though it lacked maliciousness.

I really worry about him sometimes. The Seer said he would go through a great struggle, and that's all he seems to be doing lately. It's kind of weird being younger than him, but being considered an adult while he's still a kid. I know he'll find his Beckoning, but I wish he would do it soon.

It'll make him more appealing to Bulma. Ha.

The next day things return to normal. Vegeta no longer has to get up early to make sure his tasks are done so that he may help the city girl. She's been getting up and working on her own now. After the midday meal, I spotted them in the practice area for archery, and later in her hut, teaching her Saiya-go.

It was when I was working on a new medicine that I had a brilliant idea.

We hadn't gone just for fun in a long time. Why not? So, at dinner, while I sat beside him as he gorged himself, I asked. "Vegeta, can we take Bulma to the lagoon? I think it'd be really fun."

He gave a one-shouldered shrug that thanks to my many years in the practice of Vegeta-ese I was able to decipher as a "yes."

"When should we go?" I whispered.

He swallowed a large bite of meat and looked thoughtful for a moment before answering. "After everyone else is asleep. The thrill of breaking rules makes it all the more entertaining," he reasoned. I couldn't very well argue with him. He was right after all.

About an hour later, we both snuck into Bulma's quarters and snatched her out of bed. Brother had her slung over his shoulder and she was about to start screaming. I quickly shushed her and she calmed down when she saw it was me.

As we reached the border of the village, Vegeta set her down and motioned for her to follow. Father would be furious of he found out that we were sneaking out at that hour, but even I had my limit when it came to his restrictions.

My brother had been taking me to that spot since as long as I could remember. Mother had shown it to him. We came up with all sorts of games there as children. I could never pick a favorite, but I was fond of anything we did together. We hadn't been in ages.

I was excited to share this lagoon with Bulma. I knew she'd been getting better, but I could see she was still incredibly stressed about what happened with that Bojack freak. Out adventure would hopefully relive some of that tension.

I could see the half-moon's reflection in the crystal clear water. It was always best at night. We were far enough from the village that no one would hear us. So, I was surprised when a shriek resounded right before there was a heavy splash.

My older brother loves mischief.

I joined in, and soon we were all laughing as we swam, splashed, tackled, and everything else that was for our enjoyment. I pulled myself out of the water and climbed a nearby tree that stretched over the water. Like the wild men in the movies Bulma had told me about, I swung from a vine and let go at the highest point before diving in. I emerged grinning as a piece of stray seaweed was stuck in my hair.

We laughed some more. Bulma's laughter is light, like bells almost. Vegeta's is as deep and rugged as his voice, but highly contagious, just because it's him and the most he usually does is chuckle at the expense of someone else's misery. I was having so much fun.

Eventually, when we were out of breath and held that glossy look of contentment in our eyes, we sat on the shore, still partially submerged in the water as we just admired the view in one another's company.

As I looked to my side at my brother and new friend, I noticed that their gazes were slightly unfocused. Bulma stared out at the waves while Vegeta just watched the bright moon hover in the sky.

Because of our father's strict behavior ever since our war against the Ice Folk, Vegeta had almost been brooding. But that stopped when she got here. There's been a noticeable uplifting in his attitude. He's even been more willing to speak with Father about certain matters. Whatever she's doing to him, it's working wonders, that's for certain.

I've never been very strong physically, as a saiyan, and strength is something our people treasure. Much of our philosophies come from our thinking on strength. The strength to survive. The strength to take care of others. The strength to trust. The strength to face reality. The strength to change. The strength to stand firm in beliefs. The strength to fear. The strength to be accepting. The strength to love. It's all a part of it.

Ever since I can remember, I've always been looking for cracks in those teachings. Oh, I've found quite a few in the years, but none significant enough to make me question my heritage and culture. Having been exposed to our ways, I have little doubt that is what she has been doing. Analyzing the way things were run, picking at them like scabs, tearing apart everything she once knew about her old life.

I can't wait to see what she'll do with what she's learned. To be more accurate, what she'll do to our culture with it. It will certainly be interesting, that's for sure.

…

_A/N: That wasn't too hard. Thirty points to whoever can guess what Bulma and Vegeta's respective Beckonings are._

_Do you guys want to hear some from Chichi or Goku? Let me know.I've been thinking about it._


End file.
